Odyssey of the Raftaways
by hjr
Summary: Continuation of events concerning the raft crew at the end of Exodus. Contains major spoilers of the season finale. Now complete.
1. The Futile Fight

Title: Odyssey of the Raftaways

Rating:T for violence and intense scenes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or any of its characters. That's probably a good thing.

Summary: This story takes place after the events at the end of Exodus. That episode moved me to write a highly improbable continuation. Do not read if you have not seen the season finale.

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As the motorboat sped away from the debris of the recently blown-up raft, Walt was screaming "Dad! Dad! Dad!" at his father who was treading water, and powerless to assist him. Walt yelled until his voice gave out, and could only make out a dim glow of some raft piece that was still burning. In the blackness of the night a single flame can be seen from quite a distance. 

An overwhelming rage consumed Walt. Unable to reason, all he could think of was to fight. There was no chance of the ten-year-old overpowering four adults, at least one of which was armed with a gun, but that didn't matter. This was raw emotion being let out; logic had no part of it. Two of his abductors had hold of him by his yellow lifejacket, while the other two were in the boat's cabin up front, one steering and one navigating. With one hand that was partially free Walt undid the collar of the jacket, bent down and slipped one arm out of it, and punched the nearest kidnapper in the stomach.

"Why, you little …," and the villain hit back, but Walt had turned and took the blow on his arm. He then tried kicking the abductor, but landed an only mildly effective blow on the hip. The kidnapper, now enraged, grabbed Walt's shoe, yanked it off his foot along with the sock, and tossed them overboard. Walt spun around, slipping his other arm out of the lifejacket, and tried to hit the other man in the jaw, but the blow was deflected, and Walt wound up with a piece of shirt in his hand. Without thinking, he pulled on the material, inducing a significant rip.

"So that's the way you want to play," announced the second kidnapper with an evil grin, who proceeded to grab Walt's shirt by the open neck, and forcefully ripped it entirely off, and tossed that overboard, and the lifejacket for good measure. Still blinded by rage, Walt threw another punch at his opponent's jaw; this one more effective, but the first kidnapper grabbed him from behind. Walt got off another kick at the second foe, but even though it hit its intended mark of his stomach, the abductor also managed to grab Walt's foot, and in two seconds Walt's other shoe and sock were sinking into the Pacific.

"Hey, are you all right back there?" came a voice from the front. "We need him in good condition."

"Shut up! We can handle it!" answered the first kidnapper in the stern, but the momentary distraction allowed Walt to get in one good kick in his groin. The victim howled in pain and made a grab at Walt as he was falling. That kidnapper's hand found a front pocket of Walt's shorts. The kidnapper grabbed on as he fell to the deck, pulling Walt's shorts to his ankles and revealing a pair of worn Power Rangers underwear. Unfortunately they hadn't helped Walt's fighting ability rise to Power Ranger levels. With his shorts around his ankles, the second kidnapper had an easy time of tripping Walt and knocking him to the deck and holding him down. The other kidnapper, now even more enraged, yanked Walt's shorts off from his ankles, sent them to a watery grave, grabbed a loose rope from off the deck, and tied Walt's ankles together very tightly with several turns of the rope. Finding another rope, he helped his comrade put Walt in a double hammerlock, and took great delight in tying Walt's wrists together behind his back, again very tightly using several turns of rope.

Refusing to admit defeat, Walt struggled against his bonds, but the experienced sailors were more than sufficiently skilled in tying secure knots. He rocked back and forth on his stomach, trying to obtain a more comfortable position, and eventually rolled around and managed to reach a sitting position with his back against the rear bulkhead of the cabin and his knees bent enough to get his feet flat on the deck. This still didn't help him make any progress with the ropes, and his captors were apparently having a good time watching him struggle. When they were satisfied he would never be able to escape, the first one patted him on the head and with a sarcastic tone said, "Now do try to be a good boy." They laughed, and joined their companions up front. Walt just scowled and stared straight out, over the stern of the boat. Despite the humiliating position he was now in there wasa substantial amount ofsatisfaction in putting up the best fight he could. Giving up without a fight was not in his nature.

* * *

… to be continued 


	2. Blood in the Water

Michael helplessly treaded water as he watched the motorboat speed away, shouting and crying for Walt. "This can not be happening!" he thought. Just as things had been looking up, Michael's world had turned upside-down in an instant.

He was slapped out of his state of shock by a hand with a handcuff on its wrist. Jin was shouting something incomprehensible, but obviously had been dragging Sawyer back to the remains of the raft. Jin himself had a gut-wrenching decision to make just seconds before. Should he rescue Sawyer, who had just fallen overboard after having been shot, or stay to help Michael try to fight off the attackers? Jin decided that stopping the kidnappers immediately was hopeless since they were armed. No sense in getting himself and Michael shot as well, though it was agonizing to leave Michael and Walt in such a helpless position.

Regaining his senses, Michael clambered onto a large piece of the raft, and with Jin's help hauled Sawyer up. Michael had never trusted Sawyer. That man was an opportunist, a con man, someone who apparently looked out only after himself. Michael was uncomfortable having Sawyer around Walt, especially alone. Yet at the moment of great crisis, Sawyer did his best to save Walt from the – what were they? – pirates? – and as a result had taken a bullet for his son. Michael was determined to repay the favor. Furthermore, having an additional able-bodied man around would increase the odds that Walt could be rescued.

Unfortunately, it was apparent that Sawyer would not be able-bodied for some time. He had been shot just below left shoulder, and was bleeding profusely. With all the supplies on the raft being destroyed or blown into the water by the Molotov cocktail, the raft crew had nothing but the clothes on their backs to use as bandages. Michael and Jin each tore his own and Sawyer's shirts into strips. Fortunately neither of them had lost his pocketknife. Michael wrapped the first strip around Sawyer's wounded arm, and was greeted by a howl of agony. A shirt that had been soaked in salt water was not a pleasant thing to come in contact with an open wound.

"Sorry about that, man."

"Not a problem, Mike. Half the island has tried torturing me, no reason why you can't have a turn now."

Michael was flabbergasted at that reply, but after a moment realized that the fact that Sawyer still had his sarcastic wit was an encouraging sign. Poor Jin had to remain mystified about that conversation, but concentrated on applying pressure and more strips of cloth to the wound, as it had bled through the first strip annoyingly quickly.

While Jin was attending to Sawyer, Michael surveyed the damage done to his masterpiece. While the deck was largely intact, the cabin had been blown away, and the sail burned. All their equipment was lost: radar, compass, batteries, and the flare gun that would never fire again. What a disaster it had been for Sayid to have found that flare gun in that other crashed plane! No, that wasn't fair, if they didn't fire the flare the same thing most likely would have happened as dawn broke. A few pieces of wood were burning, producing a faintunsettling eerie glow around the crew. All their food and water had been knocked overboard. If they didn't get back to land within two or three days they would die of thirst. Of course Sawyer didn't have even that long. There were some pieces of wood that could be used as oars or poles, but fifteen miles? It was extremely unlikely they could make it back like that.

The next thing Michael heard was Jin shouting excitedly about something. Michael couldn't understand until he saw movement in the water. Sawyer had been bleeding for about a minute in the ocean, and that was long enough to attract the attention of some species of shark, which was now circling the raft. It was difficult to tell what kind in the moonlight, but it appeared to be fifteen feet long and had an oddly shaped flat head. Michael and Jin engaged in a confusing conversation, the result of which ended up with Jin tightly tying one more strip of a shirt around Sawyer's upper arm, and then both Jin and Michael slapping at the shark with loose wooden logs.

For several minutes the shark swam around the once-proud raft, never letting the men get a good shot at it. This became a battle of endurance; how long could two tired humans last against a sea creature that routinely swam for hours on end? But thenthe sharkinexplicably stopped for a second, allowing Jin to give it a good whack on the head. Michael and Jin exchanged puzzled yet relieved glances as the shark then sped off at an astonishing speed into the blackness of the night.

* * *

… to be continued 


	3. The Wrath of Walt

Author's notes to reviewers: Thanks so much for your reviews! They have inspired me to try to write as well as I can manage; better than my previous effort. I will not abandon this story.

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Walt's head started to partially clear, acknowledging that he had lost the hopeless fight. Without much else to look at, the helplessly trussed-up boy stared at the nighttime sky, the pattern of constellations being etched into his brain. With his elbows bent at right angles behind his back, he couldn't even reach the ropes binding his ankles, much less try to untie those. "What had happened?" he thought. He was supposed to be "special." Locke told him so. His stepfather Brian had given a similar impression, but in an unfriendly manner. But what had Walt done in the last couple days? He insisted on going on the raft. He encouraged his father to fire the flare gun. And now those decisions may have cost his father and their two friends their lives, and sent himself into a lifetime of slavery. He wondered if some ancestor of his had been transported across an ocean like this, bound like he was, even dressed as he was, except for the Power Rangers part. Were the same stars, the same planets, the same moon, witnesses to a similar occurrence centuries ago? Something inside Walt told him the answer was affirmative, in fact possibly for several ancestors. 

Snapping back to the present, a thousand thoughts bombarded Walt's brain. Why had so much misfortune befallen him? Why did his mother have to die so young? What caused her to marry that jerk of a stepfather, when his biological father was clearly the superior man? Why couldn't his real Dad have made more of an effort to see him? Why did he have to become separated from Vincent? What had he done to deserve this?

What evidence was there that he was "special"? A few lucky dice rolls in backgammon games against Hurley? He wished he could trade in some of his luck back then for some right now. Was there anything else? His brain throbbed with pain as he recalled developing his knife-throwing skills before the appreciative audience of Locke and Boone. Fat chance he would gets his hands on a knife now. What else was there? The noise inside his brain underwent a marked crescendo. Through the agony he recalled a funny-looking bird smashing into a window, right after he saw it in a schoolbook. The throbbing intensified further. Then there was the polar bear attack, after his father tossed his comic book with a polar bear in it into a fire. Something with animals? He had to visualize an animal. Some marine animal that might be in the area. What did he need, a whale? A shark? Maybe a giant squid? What did they look like? A whale might be too much. What did a great white shark look like? Walt wasn't sure. Then there was the hammerhead, more easily remembered because its head looked like a double-headed hammer. Feeling that he had nothing to lose, Walt desperately concentrated on an image of a hammerhead shark. The cacophony inside his brain reached excruciating levels as he fought to picture that particular fish. After several minutes of nearly unbearable pain, Walt was at the point of losing consciousness, when something told him he must brace himself against the back of the cabin. Half a second later,

BUMP!

Something large had just rammed the bow with tremendous force. The force of the impact sent the kidnappers hurtling forward into the ocean, taking the forward wall of the cabin with them. Being braced against the back of the cabin, Walt was only thrown upward a small distance, though the landing was still painful. He could hear wails of agony from the water as the boat was knocked off course and now traveled along a large circular arc. Then the realization hit: his father and his friends' lives may be hanging in the balance, and now he was the only person on the face of the earth who could possibly do anything about it.

Walt wasn't going to waste time trying to determine for certain the fate of those others. He pushed himself upward against the back wall of the cabin, managed to grab the door handle and turn it, and hopped into what was left of the cabin. The pilot's chair and steering wheel were still there, but not much else. There was no longer a forward cabin wall, just part of the sides and back. Somewhat shocked, Walt stood as the boat circled around to the left, trying to determine what he could do. Eventually he recognized the constellation pattern, and suddenly knowing in which direction he had to steer the boat, hopped to the steering wheel, leaned over and grabbed the top of it with his teeth, and turned it a bit to the right. This action painfully strained his neck, and the ride was choppy enough that he couldn't hold on for long. Then he found that by standing sideways, he could reach the wheel with one hand. One rather numb hand; Walt began to clench and unclench his fingers to get the circulation back into his hands. And then similarly with his poor toes and feet.

Walt next had to guess how long he had to go in that direction. It had seemed much longer, but probably was on the order of fifteen or twenty minutes. He started to count off the seconds in his head. He then thought about course adjustments. The boat had been circling counterclockwise, so he had to aim a little more to the left. But the stars would have moved some. In which direction? Let's see, sun moves from east to west, so facing north, that's right to left. So he had to aim a little to the right. He hoped the two course adjustments would come close to canceling, so he picked out a star and did his best to keep going in that direction.

For many agonizing minutes Walt saw nothing but the dim reflection of the stars and moon on the water. 600 seconds, 700, 800, … . Then as he reached 815, he caught a glimpse of something faintly glowing red, far ahead and way to the left. Hardly daring to hope, he turned the steering wheel accordingly, and the intensity slowly increased. The glowing began to appear more like a flickering, as of some burning object whose flame was about to go out. There could be only one object out here that could be burning. As he did maybe half an hour ago, Walt shouted "Dad! Dad! Dad!" at the top of his lungs.

* * *

… to be continued 


	4. A Trio in Anguish

An utterly crushed and despondent Michael collapsed back against a small pile of raft debris. For the past several minutes he had been attempting to paddle the remains back toward the island. He and Jin had selected a star in the southern sky to aim for, but the piece of log he was using made a poor oar, and they were not making significant progress against the current. Jin had bandaged and re-bandaged Sawyer's wound as his blood soaked through one strip of cloth after another. He was running low on pieces of what used to be their shirts. Sawyer had been drifting in and out of consciousness, and was in great pain while awake. The spirits of this trio were at an all-time low.

Michael cursed himself for making the decision to go on the raft trip with Walt. It was true that in the end Walt insisted on going even after Michael had suggested they stayed, but this was the parent's decision and responsibility. Ironically enough, Walt was correct to burn down the first raft. That action now looked like it saved four lives, at least for the time being. Actually going out on that raft was flat out too dangerous for a child. The kidnapping could not have been foreseen, but there were dangerous aquatic animals out there, not to mention the possibility of bad weather, including monsoons. Sure, the island was also dangerous, but the large group stood a much better chance of defending itself against any attackers. The raft crew should have consisted of adult volunteers, with more sailing experience. His obsession with getting off that island as fast as possible affected him to the point of making the worst decision he would ever make.

Why, fate had tried hard to keep Michael off the raft. He had become violently ill just two days ago. It looked like Kate may have deliberately poisoned him, but it was never confirmed. She had desperately wanted to go on the raft, for whatever personal reasons that weren't Michael's business. But Michael was fixated on the last raft spot coming down to her or Sawyer. He should have let them both go, and stayed on the island with Walt. The fourth spot could have gone to Sun, if she and Jin were ready to be permanently reunited. Or maybe one of those thirty-odd other survivors that always seemed to be confined to the background. Why hadn't he heeded those signs?

More than everything else in the world Michael wanted to see his son again. It didn't matter if they were stranded on that island for years, or even decades, or the rest of their lives. Anything was better than this. He so desperately wanted to show Walt what it is like to be an American, to coach him in baseball, or basketball, or football, to teach him to drive a car, how to fix things around the house, or a myriad of father-son activities. He wanted to share with Walt his interest in art, and had only just begun to do so. He recalled having similar feelings over eight years ago, when that horrid Susan cruelly yanked Walt out of his life, but the feelings were more intense now, as Walt's future currently appeared to be infinitely worse than whatever life he had been leading in Australia.

During those intervals when Sawyer was conscious, he kept thinking about Michael's words, whether Sawyer came on this voyage to be a hero or to die. Maybe the answer was both. Was he a hero? A failed hero? If his raftmates survived and Walt was rescued, they might speak of him in terms similar to Boone. Sawyer might have been a hero if he was better with a gun. Apparently he was too obvious in preparing to fire, and those evil fishermen were ready. Generally disgusted with himself, Sawyer lapsed back into unconsciousness.

Jin was a turmoil of emotions, but the overriding one was still guilt. Guilt for treating the wonderful woman he married so poorly, and guilt for attacking Michael, in front of his son no less, after wrongly assuming Michael stole that watch that Jin just insisted Michael keep just hours before. Jin felt so bad about that incident that he let Michael beat him up for burning the first raft even though Jin was sure Walt was the arsonist. Did two wrongs make a right in this case?

Jin interpreted many subsequent events as punishments for his misdeeds, although what had just happened to Walt and Michael was far worse than anything that had befallen him. He made a vow that he would go to the ends of the earth if necessary to reunite the pair. And after that, he would be completely honest in his relationship with Sun. She deserved to know the truth about her father; she suspected something was up with his business activities anyway, especially after Jin returned home with someone else's blood soaking his shirt. He would take her far away from Korea, probably America, learn English, and start a family and a new life there.

While he was thinking about how his life might be so different, Jin's wasn't sure he could trust his sensitive ears when they picked up the hauntingly familiar roar of a powerboat engine. When he was more sure of himself a few seconds later, he shook Michael's shoulders, and called his name. With great angst the pair wondered what was the crew's purpose this time. Were they going to be picked up, maybe dropped back at the island, or what was much more likely, the kidnappers had come back to finish the job?

Michael strained his eyes against the darkness of night. Looking in the direction of the sound, eventually a shape emerged out of the moonlight. It was moving toward them but erratically, and didn't look quite right. The seconds passed, and the shape that presented itself wasn't what he expected. It looked like a flatboat, with very little constructed above the deck, just part of a dashboard and the back of the cabin wall. But what was more eerie was the absence of anyone aboard. This didn't make sense; if there was some accident it was extremely unlikely that craft would make its way back here. The boat drew closer, and Michael couldn't trust his ears. He could swear he heard Walt calling, "Dad! Dad! Dad!" Could this be his son's ghost?

Michael trembled in anticipation as the boat now appeared to be headed on a collision course. Hoping against hope, he shouted, "Walt!" and immediately got another "Dad!" in response. The boat drew closer, and as it turned a little, and the truth dawned on Michael. By some miracle Walt had taken control of the boat, and his head and unexpectedly shirtless body that showed over the dashboard did not provide much contrast against the nighttime sky. What he couldn't know is that Walt was able to steer, he couldn't also reach the throttle and control the boat's speed. The next thing he knew Walt was yelling, "Help! I can't slow this thing down!" Michael steadied himself for a leap while Walt tried to just skim what was left of the raft.

* * *

… to be continued 


	5. The Early Morning Boat Ride

Author's notes to reviewers: Again thanks a lot for all those encouraging reviews! This story is turning out much better than I thought it would at first. I feel I should warn you this will not last all summer, but I do have a partially formed alternative story that is a completely different continuation of Exodus that might work out.

* * *

As the powerboat sideswiped the raft, jarring Sawyer awake, Michael grabbed for a railing and vaulted onto the boat. The boat was moving too fast for Michael to keep his balance, and he fell over backward, sliding against the back wall of the cabin. He scrambled to his feet, got over to Walt, who was still clutching the steering wheel with one hand behind his back, and gave him the biggest hug of his life. "Oh Walt, I was so afraid I'd never see you again!"

Walt was crying tears of happiness, and was fighting for breath against the bear hug to point out that they needed to get back for their crewmates. Michael recovered, fumbled for the boat's throttle in the darkness, and eventually slowed the boat down. He was about to ask Walt why he hadn't managed to control the boat's speed, when Michael noticed that Walt was still holding the wheel in that peculiar position. Grimacing at what the kidnappers had done to his son, Michael helped Walt turn the boat around, and headed back for the raft, whereupon Michael and Jin assisted Sawyer into the boat. Jin took the wheel and headed for the star Michael had been trying to paddle toward.

The next order of business was to untie Walt. It was too risky to use a pocketknife in the dark and on the choppy ride to try to cut the ropes; a slip of the knife and Walt might be bleeding like Sawyer had been. Therefore Michael resorted to untying Walt's hands, when Walt pointed out that his feet were tied as well. With one functioning arm, Sawyer was useless for untying knots, so he ordered, "Let me take the wheel!" After a few seconds of gesturing and pointing at Walt's feet, Jin got the message, and went to work at that task. While he would never admit it out loud, Sawyer relished the fact that he was now participating in the rescue. At least he was going to be a hero in this portion of their odyssey.

It took several minutes for Michael and Jin to release Walt, who wound up in considerable pain. The ropes had left marks clear down to the bones, and it would take some doing to get circulation restored properly. As Walt brought his arms in front of him for the first time in about an hour, a sharp pain seared through his shoulders as well. To address all his aching joints, he ended up rubbing his wrists while sitting on the passenger seat next to Sawyer, with Jin massaging Walt's ankles, and his father working on Walt's neck and shoulders. This was not an activity Jin had envisioned ever performing, but he readily accepted it as part of his penance and was grateful for the opportunity to help.

While massaging his son's neck and shoulders, Michael had a flashback to the same activity that took place nine to ten years before. Back then, baby Walt loved the touch of his parents' hands. He was so happy, everything would be so perfect, … and then how could anyone have foreseen what this child would have to go through. What no child should have to go through, but in this far-from-perfect world many did. Michael would do all in his power to see that Walt would never suffer like this again. Snapping back to the present, Michael concentrated on his job that now entailed not just making Walt feel good, but also restoring the full use of his arms. The night was far from over, and it was impossible to predict what events were yet to come. It was imperative that everyone be in the best possible physical condition.

Walt was feeling re-energized with the rubdown, and he related his remarkable experience to the crew. Well, at least to the two-thirds who could understand him. Jin would have to wait a day for a translation. Given the night's events Walt was going to be honest and tell everything. It must be best that everyone know the whole truth now. When Michael heard about the visualization of the shark, a chill went down his spine as the image of the rapidly retreating carnivore had been permanently etched into his mind. Sawyer harrumphed and expressed his opinion that the stressful events of the night had caused Walt to exaggerate or hallucinate, and it was nothing more than coincidence, but Michael had seen and heard of enough of these incidents to doubt that. There was something odd about his son, but he felt it best to keep that opinion to himself, and simply agreed with Sawyer, "Yeah, I'm sure you're right, it's just a coincidence."

The first hints of sunlight penetrated the darkness of the night sky, and they could see the outline of the mountain near the north side of their island. The minutes passed, the sky brightened, and half a mile from shore the helmsman Sawyer made a slight course correction to head for the nearest point of the beautiful beach that beckoned to them. The crew was all smiles at the imminent approach of landfall. Sawyer estimated they were close to a quarter mile away, when they heard a most unpleasant sound.

… to be continued


	6. A Morning Dip in the Ocean

The engine sputtered. Four pairs of eyes immediately sought out the gas gauge, only now just barely legible in the dim early morning light, on which the needle was pointing slightly left to the letter "E". The "F" for "full" was on the right. The boat struggled on, sputtering more and more frequently. Jin and Walt were counting down meters—400, 350, 300, while lifelong Americans Sawyer and Michael were estimating in yards. With 250 meters to go, the engine sputtered for the last time. The boat drifted forward thanks to its momentum, but was slowing to a standstill.

Michael tried to make the best of the situation by announcing, "Well, Walt, you look like you're ready to go for a swim."

"And you don't?" Then Walt turned to Sawyer with the one useful arm and asked,

"But can you swim like that?"

"Worry about yourself, Mowgli."

"Ha! Australians are good swimmers."

"Is that so? So are you up for a little race?"

"You're on!"

"Knock it off you two, this is serious!" Michael at first couldn't believe the conversation, but then realized that anything that got their spirits up was probably a good thing.

Once again Jin was left out of an interesting conversation, and had to satisfy himself with a guess as to what Sawyer was referring to by the Jungle Book character. Jin replaced Sawyer's bandage with a fresh, unbloodied one, even though sharks normally wouldn't come this close to an island. But this was not a normal island, and it paid to be as safe as possible. Jin then used the last of the bandages to secure Sawyer's left arm to his body, to facilitate what would have to be a one-armed swimming stroke. They all looked around for life jackets, or floating seat cushions, but anything like that was knocked overboard in the collision with the sea creature Walt never saw. There wasn't even an anchor; the boat that might have led to their rescue in the future was now likely to drift away. But the important thing was to make it to shore now.

As the boat stopped moving shoreward 200 yards away, Sawyer climbed over the bow, and pushed off with a one-armed backstroke. Walt and Michael jumped in next, with Walt in the middle and Michael on the right. As Jin watched his fellow crewmates make progress, he knew he was much faster than any of them. Sawyer was drifting off to the left; it must be hard to swim straight with one arm. Jim was prepared to dive off to the left, to herd Sawyer back toward the middle. It looked like they had a good chance to make it to the beach, but Sawyer would still be in big trouble. Without antibiotics in the next few hours his wound was very likely to become infected. Medical help would be at the caves, but Jin wouldn't know where to find them from this direction. Going around to the south side and then to the caves might take two days. Jin realized he needed to summon help somehow when he remembered from his fishing village days that boats normally had whistles or horns to announce their arrivals. Having a good idea where to look, he found a cord at the edge of the dashboard, gave it a pull, and heard a low blast. He then gave the international distress signal, three long blasts, and desperately prayed that it would reach some human ear on the island. However, he was afraid that the rest of the Lostaways were too far inland to hear the signal, and he was correct that this prayer would not be answered.

As anticipated, Jin dove off to Sawyer's left, and forced him back into the correct direction. Some distance to the right, Michael blessed his mother for not being one of those miserable excuses for a parent that does not make sure their children can swim at a young age, when they are physically able to. For all her faults, Susan would not have fallen into that category. That would have unquestionably made her a less-than-perfect mother, and she would not have been able to tolerate her peers thinking that of her. Brian would have welcomed any excuse to get Walt out of their house.

Michael looked to his left, and saw that Walt was doing a better job than he was. Walt's crack about Australians being good swimmers probably had a lot of truth to it. While Michael still would have characterized himself as below average, they had come too far for him to fail now. 150 yards to go, 100, 50, … and then Michael touched bottom. Walt couldn't yet, but he didn't need to. He was only ten meters from shore when his hand hit the bottom. With Sawyer swimming crookedly, Walt won their race. The prize for winning was the opportunity to stagger onto the beach, and then collapse first. As he was passing out from sheer exhaustion, Walt managed to land on his back, making it easier to breathe. About a minute later Michael made it to shore, was infinitely grateful that Walt was obviously breathing, and collapsed himself a few feet away.

Sawyer and Jin made it out of the water a few seconds after Michael, with Sawyer letting out a pent-up scream of anguish as he stumbled a few steps onto the sand, and then rolled onto his back. The swimming had caused his shoulder to start bleeding again. Just before he passed out, he said in a soft tone, "I know you can't understand me, but I've got to thank you for all you've done, … Jin."

Jin was touched at hearing his real name spoken by Sawyer for the first, and perhaps only time. Running out of options, Jin once again applied pressure to the wound, and this time it was working to some degree. But for how long could he keep this up? Should he try to make new bandages out of leaves from the closest trees? Also, finding fresh water would soon be a priority. He checked out the father and son sprawled out on the beach a hundred meters away. It was obvious that they were breathing, rather heavily in fact, and for the moment their most likely health concern was sunburn. Sawyer's condition was much more serious, and Jin was agonizing over what to do. His crewmates weren't going anywhere without badly needed rest. He felt he could hang on himself for a few more hours, but then what? Abandoning Sawyer likely would be leaving him to bleed to death. He might help save the other two, but two out of three just wasn't good enough. Again he felt like he was being punished for past sins. In desperation he cried out for help, though his voice would never carry anywhere near as far as the boat's whistle could.

* * *

… to be continued 


	7. Reset

As dawn broke, three long, faint, blasts of a whistle wailed across the island, unheard by human ear. But not all ears on the island were human. One pair was of the more sensitive canine variety. Vincent hadn't gotten used to the concept of Shannon being his new owner, and was not sleeping particularly soundly. The first blast of the whistle was enough to make him open his eyes wide. The second caused him to spring to his feet. And the third sent him off sprinting in the direction of the sound, barking loudly enough to rouse the entire camp at the cave.

Several groans ensued from the abruptly woken castaways. Aaron cried at quite a high volume, and Claire and Charlie were trying to settle him down. Shannon complained, "What is it with that dog?" and Sayid felt the same way. But Sun sat bolt upright and announced,

"Someone is in trouble and needs our help."

In a sleepy voice Sayid answered, "That dog gets excited over anything," but Sun shot him a stare that made his blood run cold. He hadn't felt like that since fighting in the Gulf War. He corrected himself, "of course, let me help you."

Sun and Sayid gathered up a good quantity of medical supplies, including bandages, antibiotics, splints, and water among other potentially useful items, and stuffed them in a backpack. Sayid, being an excellent athlete, offered to carry them to wherever they had to go. However, they would have to wait for Vincent to return.

On the beach, Jin was still trying to decide what to do when his decision was made for him. A beige blur shot out of the forest, surveyed the situation, streaked toward the smallest of the human figures, and with great zeal, starting licking his face.

It was way too soon for Walt to be woken up. Just one hour of sleep after what he had been through? But that slobbery feel on his face would not go away. And now those paws on his chest were making it hard to breathe. Walt's brain slowly processed the information, and told him that no matter how tired he was he had to open his eyes. It took a few seconds for the image to come into focus.

"VINCENT! Oh, Vincent!" and the dog was immediately wrapped up in a hug.

Just then Jin staggered up, shouting single words and pointing at the man who lay unconscious with a bullet in his arm: "Sawyer! Medicine. Doctor. Jack." No, wait, Jack was at the hatch, away from most of the medical equipment. "Not Jack, Sun!" Jin helped Walt sit up and continued pointing to clarify his instructions.

The events of the past night returned to Walt's memory, and he looked around and spotted his father lying a few meters away and breathing heavily. "Dad!"

"Dad—good. Sawyer—help," Jin continued his explanation.

Walt finally understood, and realized what he had to do. He struggled to his knees, held Vincent's head in his hands, looked his pet straight in the eyes, and commanded, "Vincent: get Sun." Walt turned Vincent toward the forest in the direction Jin was pointing, and gave the Labrador a push on the rear. Vincent took off in the direction whence he came. When he disappeared into the forest, Walt crawled over to Michael, tired to hug him, and collapsed on him with an "Oh, Dad."

Sun and Sayid had been waiting impatiently at the cave entrance. They had plenty of time for a good breakfast themselves, which they were quite likely to need. It was agonizing not knowing in which direction Vincent had run; the dog had raced out of view before anyone else was fully awake. After almost two of the longest hours in their lives, they heard the familiar barking, and met Vincent about fifty meters from the cave. It wasn't a big distance, but any time saved could be important.

The return trip to the beach took close to two hours, as the humans had a much tougher time negotiating some nearly non-existent jungle paths. During that time Jin had to watch in sorrow as the powerboat drifted away with the tide as he maintained pressure on the bullet wound. A potentially very useful item for means of escaping the island floated out of reach. As Sun and Sayid neared the beach, Vincent ran ahead, alerting Jin to the approach of their saviors. A few seconds later, Sun was stunned to hear her husband's voice, shouting an explanation in Korean of what had happened.

Wasting no time, Sun and Sayid completed their trek, and set to work on Sawyer. They removed the blood-soaked strip of cloth, put antibiotics in the wound, and applied a fresh, clean bandage. Only after Sawyer was cleaned up, and Jin assured Sun that Michael and Walt would be okay, did the Korean couple embrace. Jin swore he would never abandon Sun again, and begged for forgiveness, which she immediately granted. Sayid surveyed the touching situation: father, son, and dog, and husband and wife, reunited. But nothing would make him hug Sawyer. Sayid was quite content with being quietly helpful in general. His style was to help out as much as he could, and then not brag about it, such as when he made that pair of reading eyeglasses for Sawyer; it was his way of gaining respect. Looking at Sawyer once more, Sayid realized that he would soon have the opportunity to fashion another pair of glasses, and that was just fine with him.

Jin, Sun, and Sayid helped Sawyer, Michael, and Walt out of the scorching sun, into the shade at the edge of the forest. After everyone had some water, the more exhausted threesome was allowed to sleep for most of the day, before they all returned to the cave encampment.

For all the adventure, the situation of the Lostaways was almost reset to what it was two days before. They were still stranded on the island, and it appeared that they would be there indefinitely. Danger still lurked; there may have been less of a threat from the kidnapping "Others," but there still may be more out there. Still there were some consequences of the ill-fated raft mission. The next father-son activity Michael and Walt got to share was suffering a moderate sunburn, but they were elated to be alive and together in order to be able to share in the experience. They spent the next three days in the caves, with Michael instructing his son in sketching art and Walt teaching his father backgammon. Also, as Walt walked into camp, he suffered some minor embarrassment involving Power Ranger jokes, and the following effort to make him some clothes that would fit. But that was no big deal considering he had Vincent back for good. It would take several weeks for Sawyer to regain most of the use of his left arm. During the recuperation he was pretty much his normal, charming self, which was interpreted as a good thing by all who knew him. But there was also an additional bit of smugness and sense of self-worth in his demeanor, as having taken a bullet earned him a great deal of respect. Finally, Jin and Sun's relationship had become rock solid. Also over the next several weeks Sun taught Jin English, and they vowed they would live together forever, far away from all the unpleasant events in their lives since their marriage, wherever that may be.

* * *

Author's notes: 

This is the end of my story; I have nowhere else to go from here.

To the reviewers:

Good guess on Sun teaching Jin English after they are reunited; that was part of the plan from the beginning. Sorry, Hurley has human ears. The "unheard by human ear" thing was supposed to be a subtle clue. I just can't leave Vincent out of these. If I do another story Hurley will have a much bigger role.

To Whirlwind-2005: The Others were left floundering in the water after being knocked off their boat by the shark in Chapter 3. It is likely they perished, but the story makes it so that there is doubt as to their fate. The castaways cannot be sure they have seen the last of the Others.

Once again, thanks to all of you.


End file.
